Brainfarques
by Divey
Summary: [Updated: Chapters 8 and 9] Randomly updated, short little snippets that attempt to cause humour. All YGO, all the time ... for better or worse!
1. The Puzzle

**A/N:** I present to you, gentle reader, the Very First story in a series of random thoughts that shall be put down on paper – errrr… computer screen. Yes, this _is_ my little version of a brainfarque. (skips around) So much fun!

I actually wrote about half of these during the whole "And Then There Were Two" series, usually when I scared myself at how much angst I was causing. I always meant to post them before, but now I actually have a reason! And that reason is –

Yami: (stares) You finally got motivated off your lazy butt?

Divey: (horrified at the accuracy) Uh…no. Um.

Bakura: (sneers)

Divey: (pouts) You guys aren't being very supportive, here…

Seto: (smirks) So sue us. (feigns shock) Oh, wait, you can't! Because you have **no rights over our characters – seeing as you didn't create us - and if anything, we should be suing you over harassment and abuse of our persons!**

Bakura: (smirks) I liked that **Disclaimer**.

Divey: (sighs) Enjoy?

**……………………………………………………………………………**

**Brainfarque 01**

**A random happy-go-lucky interlude!**

Yami stretched as he perused the puzzle on which he was working. Not the Millennium Puzzle, no. Nor was it any sort of puzzle upon which the fate of the world rested – for a change. It was… a simple 250-piece jigsaw puzzle. It portrayed two fiendishly cute kittens surrounded by multicoloured flowers, with unblinking, soul-snatching yellow eyes that stared at him as he tried to place the pieces. It was a challenge. The puzzle itself was cheating, he was sure. None of the pieces were going where they obviously should go! And yet. He was the King of Games. He could do this. The pieces _would_ fit – after they had seen the error of their ways. His thirty-odd non-stop hours of intense puzzle-solving would be rewarded. Yes.

Yuugi bounced down the stairs, listening to a newly downloaded song on his MP3 player. He looked over at the table, where his Yami had apparently not moved since yesterday morning. Upon closer inspection, though, it became obvious that he had. Scissors and scotch tape lay beside the head-clutching ancient spirit, who was currently muttering something about soul-stealing kittens. Yuugi blinked as he moved closer. The front lid of the puzzle was placed vertically on the table for reference, yet the mostly-assembled …work… on the table in no way resembled the idealized picture. Save for two sets of mismatched, yellow eyes, the rest of the jigsaw was a messy conglomeration of vaguely matching colours held together with many layers of…was that scotch tape? It was. There was also, Yuugi noticed with dismay, a number of puzzle bits in the garbage: remnants of a doomed struggle against the good kitchen scissors.

Yuugi went back to staring at the mangled puzzle in consternation. It was as if Picasso had painted a car wreck, then had thrown the entire work into a giant blender. Yuugi slowly backed away.

Yami, unfortunately, had apparently decided that he needed encouragement. Swivelling around, he fixed his desperate, blood-shot red eyes upon his lighter half.

"Aibou! Look at how much I've fit together! Isn't that a lot?"

Yuugi shuddered. A jigsaw puzzle junkie-recoveree himself, he suddenly recognized the symptoms. This was a critical situation. Oh, why hadn't he put the pieces together sooner … metaphorically speaking? Yami needed help! Yuugi nodded absently at his delusional yami as he furiously brainstormed for a solution. Terrifyingly large eyes widened even further as he hit upon a solution. That was it! Smiling coyly, Yuugi leaned in towards his Yami.

"Hey, Yaaaaaammiii…"

Red orbs blinked several times in fatigued befuddlement as his other side suddenly moved close, forcing his exhausted lenses to contract in a desperate, last-ditch effort to focus.

"…wha..?"

Yuugi slowly moved closer – it _was_ possible – before leaning down and lifting his Yami's head up to face him. Slowly twirling dagger-like bangs between his fingers, Yuugi continued speaking.

"You look so stressed. How about we go relax?" This last statement was followed by a slow wink. On Yuugi, this wink was drawn out even longer, due to the massively long distance the eyelid had to travel in order to reach the bottom half of the eye. Much like the world-renowned Energizer bunny, it kept going and going and going and…

Yami still remained confused for several more minutes, before realizing what his precious aibou was saying. Drooped eyes widened suddenly and took on a desperate tinge.

"Aibou…do you really mean it?"  
"Sure, Yami. Let's go play a game where you're _sure_ to win. Okay?"

Yami grinned, albeit slightly derangedly. This was, after all, a rare offer of depraved pleasure.

_Three hours later_

Yami slammed the card onto the table. With triumph. With delight. With relish. Oh heck, he slammed the card onto the table with relish, a Top Dog, a bun (technically two of them ), ketchup, mustard, and any other assorted condiments or additions the typical North American reader finds appetizing.

"Dark Magician destroys your pathetic Petit Angel! Your life points have been reduced to zero!"

Yuugi snickered as the former Pharaoh's mood and confidence drastically improved by the minute. It was a rare privilege indeed for Yami to be allowed to repeatedly trounce the hopelessly outclassed duellist. Across the table, Tea sighed – again – in acceptance of another brutal defeat. She had only been on her second turn in that duel…

"Um…Yami…I'm really tired. We both know you can beat me without even trying. You've shown that – repeatedly - in the past thirty duels. Okay? Can I leave yet?"

Unfortunately, Yami was too busy mentally gloating to notice her voiced complaint and regrettably misinterpreted her words.

"I, the King of Games, accept your challenge! Once again, I will triumph over my opponent as I physically prove my worthy might upon your weak deck! Muahahaha!"

Tea sighed –because really, what choice did she have? - then reached out, gathered her cards, and shuffled her deck. Again.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Yuugi better appreciate this. Thirty-one humiliating defeats do not a happy Tea make."

"Very well! Let us begin! I lay one card face down and I play…Gaia, the Fierce Knight! In attack mode! Prepare for imminent defeat, mortal!"

And Yuugi smiled.

**……………………………………………………………………………**

**A/N:** Divey had fun! Wheee! (sniggers) Poor, poor Tea.

Next up: Yami walks! Like an Egyptian. (grins) Among other things…


	2. The Walk

**A/N: **Yet another brainfarque. Because.

**Disclaimer:** Um, well, golly, but, um, you see, well, uh, gee, the thing is, um, sorta, kinda, maybe, really, um, oddly enough…

In other words: Not mine. No matter how much I stammer like a fool.

Writing code:

_Italics = Song lyrics. _

**Brainfarque 02:**

**Random Nonsense**

**……………………………………….**

The sun was shining. The birds were singing. Well, chirping actually, because if you think about it, you never actually _hear_ words in their music and really, a song without words is pretty useless, unless it's some amazingly popular singer or – in extreme cases – a huge opera-type screamer who can get away with it and still smell like a rose… Wait. Where were we?

Oh yes. It was a nice day. And Yuugi, like the nice boy he is, was inside on the couch, listening blissfully to his new music. It was amazing! Ryou had given the CD to him the other day. With furtive glances all around, the snowy-haired boy had explained between giggles that Yuugi would never look at his Egpytian spirit partner the same way again. Yuugi had never listened to this song before, but Ryou was right – this song was the master artiste behind the funniest mental picture that Yuugi had thought of in a long time.

Walk like an Egyptian… 

And speaking of moving…oh look! Here came Yami, that sinfully sexy spirit swathed stylishly in skinned slaughtered…bovine. (Note: Consonance is fun, but tiring. I think I'll give up now) He sauntered, semi-swaggering successfully (Note: Couldn't resist! ) over to the window. Presumably Yami was going to stare at birds for a while. Because it was very possible that he was hiding cat-ears under all that hair.

Watching Yami move, though, caused a giggle to slip past his hikari's lips. Turning in confusion, – his aibou had never laughed at him before; especially not when he was swaggering. He knew he looked very good when he swaggered, which is presumably why he did it in the first place. – Yami looked over to his other half, raising an eyebrow in question.

"snort I'm sorry, Yami. It's just…um… do you remember walking like that back in Egypt?"

Yami blinked in confusion. Precious few memories of his ancient, blazing, oh-my-it's-hot-I-guess-we-must-have-a-skin-show! home country were sifted through. A vague recollection of a hallway journey to his throne room (which had been beautifully decorated in gold. Not like now – an ancient, dust-filled structure. Psh. Modern Egyptians had no self-respect. If he were still Pharaoh, he would have marched over there and made them recapture the precious days of yore, ages ago. Gold for him, and "Oblivion!" to all those who disobeyed! …Except his hikari, of course. His hikari could do whatever he wanted. Yes. Their trust was that strong. Where was I?) made him nod in affirmation to the question. "Usually, aibou. Why?"

Yuugi giggled some more. Between snorts of laughter, he breathily explained this was a rather different mmph! viewpoint than was the common thought. I mean, seriously Yami tee hee! all your tomb walls have these pictures…well… Well, why don't you just listen?

Yuugi got up and inserted the CD to which he had been listening into their stereo system, then chose the track that would explain it all. Yami cocked his head in confusion as the words came wafting out from the speakers:

_All the old paintings on the tombs   
They do the sand dance don't you know   
If they move too quick (oh whey oh)   
They're falling down like a domino_

Yami huffed. They certainly had NOT! Well, okay. Maybe they had. Just a couple of times, though! Actually (digging deep into the recesses of his mind), that had been the main reason for the fights which they had lost again the Nubians. The domino effect had been the most feared military manoeuvre to be used against them in their time – and it had been used against them repeatedly. But it certainly hadn't been an everyday occurrence. Just when he had felt like being amused. And then… he had had to learn how to formally walk for the processions…

The song continued its merry mockery, oblivious to the mental torture it was having on the poor pharaoh.

Slide your feet up the street bend your back   
Shift your arm then you pull it back

Yuugi smiled. "You see what I was thinking?"

Yami frowned in concentration. "I don't know what our ancestors were thinking. That formal walk was well-nigh impossible! …Maybe it was to show our divinity? After all, no human could physically walk in that way…"

Yuugi stared. Smothering a gurgling giggle (Note! Hee! Once more into the breach!) he quickly left his muttering yami to his own devices. The mental images he had been provided with were more than enough to amuse him for hours on end. He'd share them with Malik later, too, probably. After all, one certainly needed comic relief when dealing with obsessive ancient spirits.

**A/N:** Lame ending, I know. But I had fun writing it!


	3. The Song

**A/N: **More.

**Disclaimer: **No.

Writing Code:

_"Song lyrics"_

**Brainfarque 03**

**The Song.**

**……………………………………….**

Yami strode into the main room confidently. His black leather ensemble _gleamed._ No way would he lose _anything_ today!

Yuugi and Ryou entered the room, humming along to some recently listened-to song. They glanced over and started to snicker in Yami's general direction, though in deference to their hikariness, the snickers were more along the lines of muffled chuckles of glee.

His eye twitched.

Bakura strolled into the room next, took one look at him and burst out laughing.

He frowned. The Sennen Eye started to glow on his forehead. NO-ONE mocked him _or_ his wardrobe.

And then he realized that they were all commoners, anyway. With the exception of his aibou, they would never be able to fully comprehend the awe his regalness entailed. Aibou was probably only laughing in order to be polite. He was nice like that.

Yami no Yuugi nodded decisively and dismissed the concern from his mind. He left the room with the sweeping austerity his position as Pharaoh had attributed him. If he remembered the lay-out of Seto's mansion correctly, this room led into the "teck-gnaw-lo-gy" place where many hours of brainless television watching could be had, whilst servants fed him his every whim. The place was, indeed, suited for his presence.

But wait! What was this?

On the huge monitor that covered the wall, someone had fed a music video from the computer onto the large screen. It was a catchy enough beat, he had to admit. But why was the footage from the video consisting only of pictures of him?

That was bad enough. But then the chorus came on…

_"You are the princess of Egypt…"_

…

……..

!!!

Well. This was an affront to his very dignity. Fortunately, he had enough pride to calmly deal with this situation.

**……………………………………….**

Bakura, Ryou and Yuugi glanced over sharply at the screeching of metal that abruptly started from the rec room.

Yuugi exchanged a look of consternation with Ryou. "Do you think Yami saw it?"

"Gosh, I hope not… Bakura, you DID stop the video, right?"

Bakura, of course, only laughed harder. It had reached the point where he had to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes, his stomach muscles were starting to cramp, and his bladder was sharply reminding him of the downside of having a physical body. Still, Bakura gasped for air between giggles even as a resounding crash echoed outside the mansion.

Yuugi ran. He could promptly be heard to exclaim, "Yami! What did you do to Seto's screen! And computer! Oh my gosh!"

Ryou sweated. He could visualize Yami's casual shrug. "I do not know, aibou. It suddenly detached itself and committed a noble sacrifice out the window. Perhaps it knew its very presence offended me."

"That equipment cost five hundred thousand dollars! Seto's going to kill us!"

"No, he will not, aibou."

Yuugi's voice briefly impersonated steel. "And how would _you_ know?"

"Because he will realize his presence also offends me. Undoubtedly, he will want to rectify that situation."

"He's not going to throw himself out of the window just because you're glaring at him!"

"How do you know that? He seemed perfectly willing to jump off at Pegasus' castle!"

"Don't remind me of that!"

"You can't tell me what to do! I'm Pharaoh!"

"Wake up! This is NOT Egypt! This is Japan! Third millennium, COMMON ERA! In case you haven't noticed, that's FIVE THOUSAND YEARS after your existence!"

"My _glorious_ existence, aibou. I still have steles and pyramid walls decorated in my honour."

"You're so full of it sometimes! Seriously!"

Bakura had fallen onto the floor. He couldn't breathe. If things got worse, he would have to possess Ryou's body, and let him deal with the lack of oxygen while he recovered in his soul room.

He looked up, only to find Ryou looking at him with that never-ending expression of pity.

"I wouldn't laugh too hard, Bakura-san."

"giggle snort And why not, landlord?"

"Because it's _Mokuba_ making those videos. And you're next."

The laughter abruptly ceased as the delicious pain in his gut turned into twisting nausea. "WHAT?!"

Ryou nodded in confirmation. "I think I saw him going through his music collection. He was giving serious consideration to a song called…what was it?"

Bakura leaned forward in abject terror. A squad of elite soldiers would not have been able to pry him from his spot.

"Oh yeah. 'Material girl,' I think it was. By Madonna?"

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "What." The sentence dropped like an anvil, narrowly missed Ryou's feet, fell through the floor, and hit some unsuspecting chambermaid, who was, incidentally, purloining a rare silver heirloom.

"It's really cool, actually. Mokuba was saying something about how your love of all things shiny would come in handy…"

Ryou smiled nervously as Bakura's eyes slitted like crescent moons. _Evil_ crescent moons. It was a good thing, then, that he didn't have a sparkling, vaguely titillating, nude transformation sequence to go along with the moon shapes. Then Ryou realized Bakura might indeed have such a sequence – after all, he'd never seen him take control of his body before!

Bakura ran from the room just as Yuugi stormed in, disrupting Ryou's bewildering subway of thought. Yami trotted closely behind, apologizing profusely.

Ryou dismissed the thoughts and grinned. This was a good day. There had been no angst.

Yuugi nodded.

Yami nodded. And smiled. And pirouetted – because he could.

Bakura nodded, too. (Actually, he was trying to imitate the drinking bird, but no one really needs to know that.)

**……………………………………….**

A/N: And yes. This _was_ written after Ch. 6 of "And Then There Were Two." I scared myself! Le shiver! … Of course, that would explain the emphasis on "Lack of Angst" and "Random! Humour."

Actually, on a more interesting note, I actually saw a (pretty well done) AMV for the song Yami saw. (grins) The song itself is by Aqua – I think it's called "Egypt" or some such title – but what really amused me was the chorus: "You are the princess of Egypt / And I'm just a man…" and then the focus on Yami! Ergo, thanks to whomever made that AMV – you were my inspiration for this ficcie!

Reviews embraced and enshrined, as always.

Yami: (stares) You're not mentioning the framing of the reviews that covers your walls 3 layers deep?

Divey: Hush! You'll scare the timid possible reviewers away. They're very timid, after all. (grins wider)

Snootch to the noonch!

(Kudos to anyone who gets that reference – I personally know the source, just not what it's supposed to _mean_…)


	4. Desire

**A/N: Muaha. Ha.**

**Disclaimer: ** See A/N.

**Brainfarque 04:**

**Desire.**

Yami stared lovingly at his true desire. It was just the two of them, finally alone in a normally inhabited place. Without supervision, he could have the chance to do what he'd always wanted to do…

He moved closer.

_Ahhh_…The beams of light enveloped him, washed through him, surrounded him in a luminous, loving, metaphysical embrace.

He was drawn ever nearer.

Oh, he knew that their love was forbidden, frowned upon by the others. But they didn't _know_! How could they, when their days tore them from this possibility? It was only during the evening that others could find time to fully bond, when they could ignore their homework and chores. How lucky he was. How fortunate he could bask in this presence all day.

Shifting brought him temptingly near.

He…he couldn't refuse anymore! Bubbling laughter drew him in, the pictures danced irrestibly through his mind. He had to…to…

With a helpless sigh of surrender, Yami embraced the source of light – only his, during the daytime. How it tore him to have to share at night! He affectionately nuzzled the top, feeling smoothness glide on his cheek.

It was so peaceful, just the two of them. The birds outside were the only sound and even their chirping was perfection itself, so caught up was he in the fulfilment of the moment.

_(Yuugi POV)_

Thank heavens – he was finally home. He couldn't believe how long the school day had dragged on!

He wandered into the living room, only to find…to find…Yami! He was, was –

"Yami! How could you?"

Yami had promised, he had _promised_ that he wouldn't –

The bookbag dropped to the floor, Yuugi rushing forward before it announced its heavy impact. Yuugi threw himself onto Yami, tugging futiley at the arms that embraced the other.

"You promised you'd always stay away! At least six feet! You'll hurt your eyes like this, and _then_ how will you duel?"

Yami was reluctantly parted. He sat on the floor in a huff and pouted. And then whined, "Aibou…."

Frowning, Yuugi turned the TV off. "It was just a sitcom anyway, Yami! I don't know why you're so addicted to those things! Now I want you to go upstairs and really _think_ about what you've done!"

Yami sighed, dragging his body into a position that vaguely resembled a bent sapling. His head bowed low, he slowly mounted the stairs, feet shuffling unwillingly away.

Yuugi shook his head. "I swear, every _day_… But I can't take him to school, he wouldn't last a day there!" Sighing, he walked back to pick up his bookbag and started on his homework.

Upstairs, Yami smiled with the promise of tomorrow. It was only Tuesday, after all.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**A/N:** Muahaha. Because TV is wonderful, and an addicted Yami is fun to write. (giggles)


	5. The Back Yard

**A/N:** Inspired by the horribly evil weeding I had to do today. (Sobs) And I'm _still_ not done! At any rate, please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** (Checks self)… I have a Yami plushie!!  
Store clerk: (Frowns) Give that back or pay for it already!  
Divey: Le pout.  
Store clerk: Le…what?  
Divey: (Cackles in sheer fatigue)

**Code:**

_/ flashback /_

**Brainfarque 05:**

**The Back Yard**

Yami stared in horror. His eyes closed once, and then again, as if mere visual refusal would make the terror ahead of him disappear.

No such luck.

Facing him, the greenery of weeds waved dauntingly. Standing where he was, the tips of the spread managed to brush their jagged edges against his (thankfully!) leather-clad legs.

He'd completely forgotten about weeding the back yard. And any minute now, his aibou and Grandfather would return from their month-long vacation.

Yami stumbled quickly backwards at the menacing sight ahead of him. He let out a startled cry as he tripped on something, and landed firmly on his butt.

"Ow…" he complained. Rubbing the offended area, Yami looked to see what had tripped him. Right in front of him lay the weed-digger and the trowel. They were barely visible, though, due to the hated overgrowth that had swarmed over the once-pristine tools.

He blinked. So _that's_ where they'd disappeared…

From inside, the grandfather clock began to chime in the late hour. Normally calm eyes widened in ruby terror, and Yami lunged for the tools with a desperate denial hovering before his lips in the humid air. Using all of his strength, he began to pull and tug frantically at the weed-digger, trying to free it from its encompassing prison of entrenched roots. As he struggled, his mind flashed back to the events of a month prior.

_/ "Yami! Guess what?"_

_"You and grandfather won the raffle for an all-expense paid trip to Jusenkyo springs in China?"_

_"Wha-? How did you know that?" An ominous pause. "You didn't go into my thoughts again, did you?"_

_Yami sipped his tea. "Of course not, aibou. I just heard the results announced on the … rai-dee-oh."_

_"Oh." Another pause. "Yami?"_

_"Aibou?"_

_"…Would you mind watching the shop while we're gone?" /_

After the circumstances had been explained, Yami had reluctantly agreed, comforted only by the fact that he knew his aibou and grandfather would be kept under constant, secret surveillance.

He had Kaiba to thank for that.

Of course, to return the afore-mentioned begged-for favour, Yami had to promise to duel Kaiba.

He'd vowed to do the weeds right after that, having previously promised his aibou that he would take care of the lawn. At least he'd had the chance, before he'd gone off to shame Kaiba again, to put the fur-tee-leye-zer in the front and back lawn.

He'd come back from the duel – having won it, of course – and had managed to deal with the front lawn, but then…

Ah, but then Anzu had come over for tea. Since he knew it was most impolite to send visitors away without being entertained, Yami stopped working immediately and had amused his aibou's good friend.

How that had turned into a whirlwind, all-night party with Jou, Honda, Ryou, Bakura, Marik, Malik, Seto, Mokuba, Anzu, Otogi, and a score of others…

Yami didn't know. He also didn't know how a sugar-high Marik had spun from the ceiling fan for a good 15 minutes without breaking anything.

And then, after the party, Yami had to clean up all the mess. By _himself._

He paused in his frantic struggles with the weeds to grumble briefly under his breath.

And then, after the party, there'd been that ice cream sale at the grocery market.

And the duel competition.

And the finals for Dungeons and Dragons.

And the chess tournament.

And now it was the end of the month, and the backyard had turned into the forest that time had forgotten! And Yami had promised his aibou that he'd look after everything!

Aibou was going to kill him.

Yami sighed. His "never-say-die" spirit had fled ages ago at the first sight of the elephant-sized weeds. He knew now that he would never get this done before his aibou returned with grandfather. A small, metal tool would not be enough. By Osiris, an army of _bulldozers_ would not have been enough!

He was going to die.

…

Again.

…

Unless! Suddenly, Yami was hit with a fabulous idea, born out of sheer desperation. He let go of the weed-digger and, with a grunt of effort, tapped into his Puzzle. Soon, a field of Darkness completely swarmed over the backyard, the sinister shadows writhing subtly in contentment.

Yami nodded to himself in satisfaction. He _knew_ that the Shadow Realm had to be good for _something_!

Just then, he heard the patio door click open, and he whirled about to face the new arrivals. His eyes widened. "Aibou! Grandfather! You've returned!"

"Yami! It's great to see you again! How did things go?"

"Oh, fine. Fine. Ne, aibou, look! I won the duel tournament in your name! See the trophy?"

"Wow, Yami! Thanks!"

A pause.

"Yami?"

"Yes, aibou?"

"Why are your pants covered in mud?"

"Eh?"

"For that matter, why is the backyard completely dark when the sun is shining so brightly?"

"Uh…"

…………………………………….

**A/N:** That was fun. (Grins). Oh, and kudos to anyone who caught the Ranma ½ reference. (Grins wider)


	6. Cheesy, cliche luuurve

Review Answer: (Thank you, by the way! Thank you very much!)

**Yami Silverdramon:** What's with the "le" things, you ask? A very good question! That would be the unfortunate effect of fatigue combining with a poor French immersion education, which leads me to mangle both the English AND French language! … Sorry if I got you saying it. Poor you! pats back supportively And I AM glad you enjoyed the stories!

**Brainfarque #Whatever**

**Dark Love**

**Disclaimer:** To quote many other inspired writers, if they WERE mine, everyone would be declaring their shonen-ai type love for each other within the first series. Thus, be very, very thankful they're NOT mine. Howzat sound?

**A/N:** WARNING! Vaguely serious SHONEN-AI is contained within the following rambling. If you can't tolerate Yami murmering "Soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" and Yuugi swooning (in a macho-esque manner) into Yami's manly, skinny arms, then you probably shouldn't read this.

First posted shonen-ai, for the record. I think. (I've lost count of how many attempts I've made at WRITING these scenes…)

So yes: YY/Y pairing. Don't like, don't read, o'course!

……………

Yuugi hummed to himself as he watered the plants, a smile illuminating his face. Absolutely everything was going great! The plants were flourishing, Grandpa had increased his allowance, just because Yuugi had been _so_ responsible, his grades were positively soaring, and best of all, he and his Yami had increased the bond between them.

A random thought fluttered through his mind, as an episode of Star Trek he'd seen last week was brought to the surface. "Your thoughts to my thoughts," one of the characters had said, before two minds had been joined. Yuugi knew he hadn't much cared for the show, but that one phrase had jolted through him with all the power of a lightning strike. Immediately, he'd turned and glanced at Yami, both their eyes widening in surprise as they met one another's glance.

A sound behind Yuugi made him automatically reach out his mind for his other half. Be it friend or foe, it seemed that everything was just ... easier when Yami was around. The enemies weren't so intimidating, and the friends seemed more fun to be around. However, in this case, the sound belonged to neither of the two. As Yuugi finished turning around, curious as to who it was, he came face to face with a glowering Yami.

A Yami, who, arms crossed, had his left foot tapping impatiently.

Yuugi blinked. _Yami?_ he questioned, wondering at the sudden mood swing. With anyone else, he would have maybe retreated a step, before hesitantly approaching and trying to console. But this was _Yami_. Yami, who had revealed his soul to Yuugi, and yet who was still such a mysterious enigma. What could have happened, Yuugi wondered to himself. Was there a new foe? Was something wrong with something?

"Has anything happened to Grandpa?" he blurted out, suddenly unable to check the overpowering fearful bile that rose up within him at the mere thought.

Yami's eyes narrowed, and he stomped a few feet closer. Soon, he was less than a foot away. As always, Yami's lustrous presence washed over Yuugi, the way it did when the two of them were together and alone in the room. However, this time Yami's aura was tinged with enraged red - a red which was starting to batter on Yuugi's soul room door.

"Yami!" he cried, as Yami's hands suddenly came up to grip Yuugi's. The grip tightened almost painfully, and the watering pot dropped with a clatter and a splash as the rest of the liquid spilled out.

"Mine." Yami finally ground out. Yuugi blinked as he nodded his agreement.

"Of course, Yami. You know I belong to you. Just as you belong to me. We _are_ two parts of the same soul, after all."

_'... But what's this all about?'_ continued the unfinished sentence.

Yami smirked at what Yuugi had said, and the red aura flashed sporadically as it darkened into the blackest shade. The black seemed to cover the room and overwhelm the sunlight; so intense was its power.

And suddenly Yuugi understood. Over the past years they'd been together, Yami had been his constant companion, through thick and thin, the rough and the smooth. And yet, despite the fact they could read each other like an opened book - with large print, no less - there always came a time, once a year, when Yami would seemingly shut down. When this happened, the good that had blossomed like a rose within the spirit would shut up and disappear, and Yami's feral dark nature would come raging to the surface. Then it was impossible to reason with him, impossible to do anything but stand there, swept up in the charismatic anger, which Yami embodied.

Yuugi had never figured out why this was, though. Oh, sure, afterwards - after he'd caught his breath - he'd run through a list of possibilities. Naturally, they all had to do with something unknown that had happened in Yami's living existence before. His birthday, perhaps? A particular traumatic even, maybe? Or possibly (and the more Yuugi saw of this scary side of Yami, the more he grew convinced), this was the time of his death. The death of Yami would have reluctantly plunged him the seeping pool of dark evil, an evil that would have eventually permeated the otherwise good soul. And, as that time came round again and again, the darkness within Yami would wax and wane accordingly.

In front of him, Yami's eyes flashed in anger and to Yuugi, the crimson colour within them had never seemed to resemble freshly spilt blood so much as they did now.

Yuugi shuddered, wishing Yami would release his hands so that he could embrace Yami. He wanted to so very badly, to show Yami that it was all right. Because it _was_ all right. Yami needed to understand that Yuugi accepted him - ALL of him - with everything that was inside. It was only fair, after all. Because, you see, Yami had accepted everything Yuugi was as well. His good points, his faults, his likes, his loves, his hates - EVERYTHING.

Yuugi felt tears well up in his eyes as he was hit by an epiphany. He loved this one. This poor, tattered soul in front of him - he loved him with everything he had. Blinking back the tears of hope, he slowly leaned forwards - slowly, so as not to frighten the beast that Yami was now - and gently, shyly, brushed a soft kiss against Yami's cheek.

Electricity jolted through him - more so than in any of his duels before - and Yami seemed to blink. It was as if the door that had opened to let the darkness come in had slammed suddenly shut. In fact, Yami's eyes were returning more to the harmonious purple and red - the colour they were when Yami was at rest and content.

_'It's us,'_ Yuugi suddenly thought_. 'The mixture of the two colours, living side by side - it's us!'_ He sniffled, and then blinked as his hands were released. In front of him, Yami was staring in horror, yet with a resigned expression, at his aibou. The memories of what he'd just done while under evil's influence were washing over him in waves. Shuddering, he sunk to his knees, and grasped his salvation loosely around the hips.

"A-Aibou?" he choked out, desperately seeking reassurance. Reassurance that everything was ok, and that the beautiful light that had sprung from his cheek mere seconds ago had not been another dream.

And the reassurance came flooding over in waves, from Yuugi's ever-bright mind and from the arms that tightened around his shoulders. "It's all right," Yuugi murmured, and a _blind_ man would have been able to see the tenderness and caring that infused the voice.

Yami tightened his own arms, not wanting to let his better half go.

"... mine...?" he whispered hopefully.

Yuugi smiled, bent down to stare into Yami's violet-crimson eyes and leaned in close to murmur something into Yami's ear.

And outside, the sun shone brightly, once again.

……………..

**A/N:** DONE! … A prime example of what happens when I get babbling at 9 in the am. coughs nervously


	7. More Sap

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. ((glares)) Quiet. ((wanders off to grab coffee))

**Brainfarque #7**

**Follow up BxR clichéd, cheesy get-together ficcy**

**A/N: **More shonen-ai. Bakura. Ryou. Cliched. ((stares into space, debating the energy necessary to type more versus the need for sleep)) Um. Yeah.

* * *

Bakura stomped upstairs and paused. There was something that was bothering him about this whole situation, and he was going to be in a bad mood until he figured out what it was.  
There it was again! The noise seemed to be coming from his weakling hikari's room. Instantly on edge, Bakura crept forward, drawing on his Shadow Magic. Despite Ryou's professed "weakness," Ryou was still his hikari. His. His light that bound him to the world, his salvation from the darkness, his everything. If anyone should dare touch his secret beloved, if anyone even thought of hurting Ryou, Bakura would ensure they would pay dearly for their wrongness.  
With the well-honed stealth of thousands of years, Bakura softly opened the door and crept in. Making no sound as he softly padded onto the carpeted bedroom floor, Bakura nonetheless couldn't keep the slight noise of surprise escaping when he beheld the alien sound that had been causing him so much discomfort.  
Ryou was crying. Crying on the bed, of all things - his gentle face buried in the pillow to hide the overwhelming sadness Bakura could suddenly feel radiating from their link. Unconsciously, Bakura's eyes softened as he approached, his own tears rising unbidden in empathy. Was it rejection? Bakura knew enough of rejection to last him for more than a lifetime. Or perhaps it was fear of some force? Bakura knew the fear of the Shadow Graveyard, and silently promised himself that he'd kill himself before he let anything make his hikari experience such fear.  
The overwhelming curiousity within him grew, his brain solemnly pondering the reason behind the massive grief he felt. He jerked to a stop suddenly, realizing he'd travelled the short distance to the bed and was now gazing down at his quietly sobbing snowflake.  
"R-Ryou?" Bakura cursed himself for the catch in his voice, and then cursed even more when his hikari jumped in surprise. "Ryou, what's wrong?"  
Ryou's teary eyes swivelled upwards in shock, gazing soulfully into his own for a long second. But then they swivelled down again, and a soft blush spread across Ryou's fair cheeks. The white locks shook as Ryou denied him an answer, and he stared downcast at the floor.  
"Ryou, tell me!"  
The eyes clenched shut, releasing a few more crystalline tears to sparkle down the cheeks, and the head shook again more vigorously.  
"Ryou, please!" He was begging now, Bakura knew, but he didn't mind. On the contrary, he was almost desperate to find out what was so wrong that Ryou had been reduced to this somber silence.  
Ryou's breath hitched and he spoke for the first time, his voice rough with emotion. "I... I can't!" he forced out, and immediately turned away.  
Bakura paused. "You can't? Or you won't?"  
Even more depressed than before, Ryou only shook his head again. He sniffled adorably, and Bakura firmly squelched the urge to enfold his hikari in his arms. Ryou needed support here, he did not need the affections of some tainted thief. With a sigh of his own, he took his place on the bed and braced himself for the worse.  
"Ryou, I promise I won't judge you. Whatever's wrong, you can tell me.""Please." Bakura forced the word out, his desire to fix his aibou's solution easily overcoming his pride.  
There was another long pause, and then finally Ryou whispered. "I... I like someone. And I'm pretty sure they don't like me the way I like them."  
Bakura stared in shock, almost seeing his newly-bloomed heart wither and die. "Oh?" he stammered. He would not cry. He would not. In fact, he would be happy for Ryou and his girlifriend, and if she ever hurt him he would gladly shred her into a thousand pieces. "Who is she?" he continued, still firmly repressing the tic in his cheek. She was probably perfect - she had to be perfect for Ryou. She probably had shining gold eyes, and blonde hair, and was slender and nice and sweet.  
... He wanted to kill her already. How could he hope to get Ryou away from such perfection?  
He blinked as he noticed Ryou almost curl into a ball. He racked his brain for something he'd said. "Um... so you like someone?" he retreated.  
Ryou nodded, and began twisting the comforter in sheer uncomfort. "Uh-huh," he whispered again.  
"Who?" Bakura blurted out, suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to know.  
Ryou looked away. "It's ... not a girl," the words were forced out at an even softer whisper, yet Bakura was tuned to Ryou's every word anyway. Not a girl? Then that would mean...  
Ra above, this was even worse. What if it were- his brain screamed through the horrible possibilities. 'Please let it not be Yuugi. Or the Pharaoh. Or Malik. Or Marik. Or... anyone that I hate. Osiris, please hear my plea!' he desperately thought. If it was the Pharaoh, he was going to kill himself. If it was Yuugi, he'd - well, he'd probably kill himself too. Bakura clenched his eyes shut. "No..."  
There was a sob and then the bed moved as Ryou got up to run out the door. Instantly, Bakura's eyes shot open as he realized he'd spoken that last thought aloud. Ryou had thought he was rejecting him! And now he was going to run away and leave him forever! The cry of denial that image brought fuelled Bakura's energy, and he shot off the bed. He caught up with Ryou and spun him around, tackling him to the floor so his hikari couldn't escape.  
"Don't leave me!" he cried out, forgetting that this was supposed to be about Ryou's feelings and Ryou's troubles. Ah well. He'd always been a poor conversationalist. "You can't leave me!"  
Ryou struggled underneath him, squirming to get away. "Let me go!" he shouted. "You hate me, ok? I get it! Just, please! Please, let me go!"  
"No!"  
"Please!"  
"NO! I can't!" Bakura yelled. His grip tightened on Ryou's arms. "Now, tell me who you like!"  
Ryou seemed to collapse even further into the floor. "Please, don't do this," he sobbed. "Don't make me tell you..."  
The sheer emotion in Ryou's voice brought Bakura to tears. Ryou loved this guy. He loved him enough to cry over him. How could Bakura ever get over this? His infinite sorrow overwhelmed him, and then years of repression kicked in, burying the sadness under a thick layer of rage and anger. He narrowed his eyes and glared down. "Tell. Me."  
"Please..."  
"Tell me!"  
"No..."  
"Ryou! For the love of Ra, PLEASE TELL ME!"  
Ryou stared sorrowfully up at the anguished eyes, then closed his own in submission. "I ... I like..." he stammered, nervously.  
"Who?" Bakura questioned softly, gradually releasing his hold on the trembling hikari.  
Ryou's lips moved as he uttered the answer, but it was too soft for even Bakura to hear.  
"What did you say?"  
"...you. I like you, Bakura. A lot." Ryou seemed to gain confidence as he spoke, and opened his eyes cautiously to stare upwards. All the love that he'd kept hidden shone out, and Bakura could only gape in wonderment. Was this real? This wasn't just a dream, was it?  
"In fact, Bakura-san, I think I... I think I'm in lo-" Ryou's blush returned in full force, galvanizing Bakura into action. He brought a hand up and laid it gently on Ryou's trembling lips.  
"Hikari-mine, I like you too."  
"What?!"  
Bakura smirked, unaware his smirk looked more like a goofy grin. "And all this time, I thought you hated me."  
"I thought you hated me! ... Do you really li-like me?"  
Bakura sighed. Ryou's lack of self-confidence was getting to be really annoying. Although initially endearing, Bakura was feeling that he'd have to do something drastic about it very soon. 'Actually,' he realized, 'there's no time like the present.' And besides, actions spoke louder than words, right?  
Ryou was still gaping like a guppy when Bakura leaned down and covered those lips gently with his own. It was their first kiss, and Bakura reveled in it, getting swept up in the moment. His mental barriers lowered, and for the first time he let Ryou feel all the fondness and affection he had for him.  
'Aishiteru, Ryou.' He thought adoringly at his other.  
A mental sigh of sheer bliss returned to him, as Ryou's arms wound their way around his neck. 'Aishiteru, Bakura. Thank you.'

* * *

**A/N: **;; Cheeesy Cheez Whiz. Sorry. ... Oh, yeah! Reviews...?


	8. Ancient Egypt

**Disclaimer: **Noooooo.

**A/N: **Written because I wince at this historical inaccuracy in the show. ;; This might also explain why Seth didn't want Yami on the throne. ((laughs))

* * *

"Owie."

"Sorry, your highness."

Rustling.

"Ow!"

"Forgiveness, your worthiness."

More rustling.

"_Ow!_"

"Pardon, oh deity of bounty."

Squirming sounds accompany the rustling.

"Divine one, could you possibly hold still?"

"No! Waaah! Daddy! Seth's _huwtin' _me!"

Stomping.

"High priest-in-training, what is the meaning of this outrage?"

An aggrieved sigh and the sounds of a formal bow.

"Oh inspired king of the celestial orbs (1), I was merely attempting to adorn the young prince's noble head with the ceremonial ornaments –"

"You were trying to put the royal training crowns of the Upper and Lower Egypt on his head?"

"Yea, oh Pharaoh."

A royal, suppressed smirk. "And it wouldn't fit over his hair?"

"Regrettably not, oh glorious bringer of the sun."

"I see. You tried though?"

"Yea, oh master of the waters (1). Your eyes are truly graced with the all-seeing power of Osiris."

A mutual glance at the pouty four-year-old, future ruler of upper and lower Egypt, who was preoccupied in shaking his hair back into a semblance of its uncrushed state. Silent bodyguards, well accustomed to raising spoiled royal brats, nonetheless winced as the young Atemu then kicked the royal training crown with childish petulance.

Atemu's father snapped his fingers, and his favourite concubine rushed forwards to pick up the squalling child.

A thoughtful pause lasted, then the swish of a royal cloak announced the Pharaoh's intent to depart. "Your diligence is commendable, Seth. However, refrain from that aspect of my son's training to rule; I will reflect upon this… matter."

Seth groveled dutifully. "Your wisdom knows no bounds, oh wonderment of Ra."

The concubine gracefully bowed herself out at another snap of the royal fingers. Seth turned, with a hidden sigh, once again to the task of teaching Atemu of the duties for his future rule.

* * *

TWO DAYS LATER

"Here." A large golden circlet, engraved with the all-seeing eye, was thrust at Seth. Carefully, he took hold of the expensive cushion that the half-circlet rested upon.

"What is the meaning of this?'

"The almighty Pharaoh has decreed that this shall be the prince's crown," the messenger intoned solemnly and with great duty. Then, shooting a couple of furtive looks around him, leaned in. "Just between the two of us," he whispered, "this thing is probably _heavier_ than the crown. It took half of the guards' wage increases to make!"

Seth nodded in resigned understanding, then dismissed the messenger and turned to the young prince.

"Oh highness?" he knelt down. "The gracious and benevolent Pharaoh – mayheruletenthousandyears – has bestowed a gift upon you."

Atemu stared, then grinned. "Shiny…" he cooed, and poked it.

"Yes, it _is_ shiny," Seth agreed. This was turning out better than he thought. At least it was better than the usual demands for "games" that he got from the brat. "Your daddy wants you to wear it."

The young prince tilted his head and stuck a finger in his mouth. "O-tay," he agreed eventually.

"All right. Now, if you could just hold still, oh eternal one, I'll put it on?"

Atemu pouted – obviously remembering the last time Seth had tried to put something on his head – but didn't object.

It didn't look _too_ bad, Seth decided. The half-circlet was still a little too big for the small forehead, though, and covered not only the brow, but overshadowed those expressive, crimson eyes, as well. As he watched, one side slid down, becoming an impromptu, expensive eye patch.

Seth pursed his lips. That was going to leave a horrible tan line. He suppressed the bout of laughter at the thought, and instead nodded. "It looks good, your highness."

Atemu sparkled at him, then toddled back over to the puzzle he was working on.

* * *

And this is what comes of attending my psych class. UU I'm not a good student.

For a website depicting the _correct_ crown(s) of Ancient Egypt, you can go to:

http/ www. metmuseum. org / explore / newegypt / htm/ reuplow. htm

-Oh, and because I was curious, I checked this. Egypt, which was originally divided into two sections (Upper and Lower, naturally), was united in the 18th dynasty, around the year 3100 B.C.E. Yami (or Atemu), being either 3000 or 5000 years old, fits into the unification period, which is also noted to be one of the most glorious and prosperous in the history of Ancient Egypt. And now you know something. Wow!

* * *

NOTE:

(1): Far, _far _be it from me to plagiarize, especially from the following source:

Pratchett, Terry. Pyramids. London: Transworld Publishers Ltd., 1997, pages 110-1.

And there you go. :) My inspiration when it came to certain instances of Pharaoh-name-calling, because I'm simply not that creative. Bow to the worship of the Pratchett-man! ((does so))


	9. Waiting

**Warnings: **OOCness, random almost!indecency, Yami with a "real" body, aaaand … thinks unlikely situations. Oh, and shonen-ai. It's _fiction_!

**Disclaimer:** After I take over the world, YGO will belong to me and I will make Yami, Bakura, (and Yami-Marik) have real bodies, thus settling this whole spirit/physical presence debate once and for all. ((smirks)) And then I will have their respective partners snog them happily, because I'm in a generous mood today.

**Brainfarque 10**

**The wait

* * *

**

_Location: A deserted waiting room_

* * *

Yuugi stared in front of him, absently reading the posters on the wall. Beside him, Yami slouched, arms crossed. The ticking of the clock seemed too loud for comfort.

Yuugi gave up and grabbed a magazine. He stared at the fashionably clad male on the cover, then glanced down at his own outfit in comparison. Instead of constricting black jeans and a midriff-baring purple tank top, Yuugi wore soft blue sweats and a loose grey shirt made of fleece.

He pursed his lips. Apparently, he was taking a break from being fashionable today. But darnit, he was comfy, so there.

Yami shifted impatiently. "How much longer, aibou?"

Yuugi shrugged. "These can be kinda hard to predict. I wouldn't worry about it, though."

Yami sighed and shifted some more. Yuugi tuned him out and slowly flipped through the magazine. The clock ticked on.

Ten minutes later, Yami had begun to fidget. Yuugi concentrated resolutely on his magazine.

Time passed. Yami stared ahead, still fidgeting, until Yuugi couldn't ignore it anymore. "Yami," he ventured softly, "you're creaking."

It was true. Yami had dressed in his traditional leather get up, and it was audibly apparent. Yami bit his lip and subsided.

"Sorry, aibou."

Yuugi smiled, "If it's any help, I'm bored, too."

Yami smiled back, then moved to stare at the ceiling disinterestedly.

A few more minutes, then Yuugi sighed. "Yami. Creaking again."

Yami stopped fidgeting _again_, then slouched down even more. He groaned softly in frustration.

Time dragged on some more. Yami drooped some more. Yuugi set aside the magazine and began to drop off in the quiet.

_Creak, creeeaak._

Yuugi began to twitch. "Yamiiiii," he whined, giving up on politeness. "Creaky!" He poked at Yami's guilty pants (part of his leather ensemble) with a petulant expression. "Cut it out!"

Yami pouted. "It's not _my_ fault. You made me all rushed this morning and I didn't have time to oil them."

"And I am sorry," Yuugi apologized sincerely. "But you have to admit it's kinda annoying."

Yami gave this due consideration, shifting experimentally. Yuugi resisted gritting his teeth.

"You're right, Yuugi. It is most annoying," Yami decided, then stood up.

_CREAK. Creak, groan, creak, creeaaak, ccccrrreeeeaaaaaaaak. Thump._

Yuugi stared at his yami in a mix of horror and amazement. "Yami?" he squeaked.

The manifested spirit in question sat down with _distinct_ satisfaction. "There. Problem solved."

Yuugi went very, very red. Nonchalantly, Yami relaxed again and used his right foot to shove aside the discarded pile of clothing.

For his part, Yuugi stared, somehow unable to stop. Seeming miles of tanned, bare legs flowed upwards, scurried under modest black silk boxers, then re-emerged, more glorious than ever as a lovely expanse of tanned, bare, male chest. Under the cheap florescent lighting, Yami seemed to radiate sensuality and untameable freedom and Yuugi just. Couldn't. Stop. Staring.

When Yuugi finally dragged his eyes up to face level, Yami was smirking slightly, probably well aware of the effect he was having. "Yes, aibou?"

"You … stripped?"

The smirk grew. "No more creaky leather, aibou. Problem solved."

Yuugi's previously red face decided to hijack the rest of the blood in his body, creating a searing red colour not found in nature. "Yeah, but… you _stripped_!"

Smiling, Yami leaned forward and gently flicked his nose. "Only for you, aibou. Now go back to reading your glossy book."

At that moment, Yuugi's grandpa entered the waiting area, stretching in relief and scrunching his eyes closed as he did so. "Aaaah. Nothing like your annual dental cleaning to make your teeth feel all happy! Were you two waiting long?"

* * *

**A/N:** Lame ending, I know. Ah, well.

Written as secret vengeance (aka: stress relief) b/c of the annoying semi-friend who sat beside me today in his _constantly_ creaking leather jacket. He drove me insane in 10 minutes, and it's entirely his fault that I wrote this in the margins of my notes during class. XD _Evil_ creaky leather. ((shrugs)) That was really the only point I wanted to make, though implied Yami/Yuugi shonen-ai is always nice, right?


End file.
